Young worshippers are flocking to a Detroit church that uses the Latin Mass. Harry Mount and John Davie explain why
St Joseph Shrine, a Catholic church in Detroit, has seen a boom in young worshippers because of its popular Latin Mass. Harry Mount and John Davie explain why
Readers of the Oldie don’t need to be told the Old Testament was originally written in Hebrew and the New Testament in Greek.
Still, Latin versions of the Bible soon became extremely influential very early on in the story of Christianity.
You will have your own preferences as to the ideal language for the Bible. Still, to get a feel for the different versions, here is a short passage from the Gospel of John about the wedding at Cana, and the miracle of the conversion of water to wine.
The three versions below are the Latin Vulgate, the King James Bible and the original Greek of the New Testament.
The words are spoken by the steward at the feast, astonished by the quality of the wine.
Omnis homo primum bonum vinum ponit et cum inebriati fuerint, tunc id, quod deterius est. Tu autem servasti bonum vinum usque adhuc.
‘Every man at the beginning doth set forth good wine; and when men have well drunk, then that which is worse: but thou hast kept the good wine until now.’
Πᾶς ἄνθρωπος πρῶτον τὸν καλὸν οἶνον τίθησιν καὶ ὅταν μεθυσθῶσιν τὸν ἐλάσσω σὺ τετήρηκας τὸν καλὸν οἶνον ἕως ἄρτι.
All three have their merits. My own favourite for the New Testament is in the original Greek.
But, for individual expressions from both the New and Old Testaments, there is something pithy and memorable about certain Latin expressions come from the Latin Vulgate, like this one:
Noli me tangere.
‘Don’t touch me.’
John, 20.17
Jesus said these words to Mary Magdalene when she tried to touch him after the resurrection. In the New Testament, it was originally in Greek: Μή μου ἅπτου (me mou haptou), which really means something more like ‘Stop clinging to me.’
The Vulgate is also the source of these famous words:
Quo vadis?
‘Where are you going?’
John, 16.5
Peter asked the risen Jesus this on the Via Appia, as Peter fled crucifixion in Rome. Jesus replied, ‘Romam eo iterum crucifigi’ (‘I am going to Rome to be crucified again’). Thanks to this meeting, Peter turned round and went back to Rome, where he was crucified upside down.
It’s in the Vulgate, too, that this haunting line on the nature of vanity appears.
Vanitas vanitatum, dixit Ecclesiastes; vanitas vanitatum et omnia vanitas.
‘Vanity of vanities, the preacher said; vanity of vanities, and everything is vanity.’
Ecclesiastes, 1.2
How did Latin become the official language of the Catholic church in the first place?
The spark for the mass conversion to Christianity came in the wake of the conversion of the Emperor Constantine (272–337 AD). Before the decisive Battle of the Milvian Bridge over his rival Emperor Maxentius in 312 AD, the Emperor Constantine saw these words in the sky beside a vision of Christ’s cross – a cross of light above the sun.
In hoc signo vinces.
‘In this sign, you will win.’
After victory in the Battle of the Milvian Bridge, Constantine was confirmed as emperor and declared Christianity the official religion of the Roman empire, ending centuries of Christian persecution.
In fact, those words – In hoc signo vinces – like Caesar’s supposed last words, ‘Et tu, Brute?’, were later Latin translations from the original Greek spoken by Constantine. What Constantine really saw in his vision were the Greek words ‘ἐν τούτῳ νίκα’ or, to transliterate, ‘en toutoi nika’ – ‘Conquer in this sign’. Caesar’s real last words, in Greek, were Kai su, teknon? - “You, too, my child?’
Even if Constantine’s divine message was originally in Greek, though, that didn’t stop Latin, the official language of the Roman Empire, becoming the official language of the church.
Latin was accepted into the liturgy in the papacy of Damasus (360–82 AD), who commissioned Jerome to produce the Vulgate, a revised Latin translation of the Bible.
Latin clung on long after the invasion of the Roman Empire by the Goths and the Vandals in 410 AD. They were surprisingly respectful towards Latin and all things Roman, principally because they too tended to be Christian and respected the language of the church.
Even as Rome was eclipsed, there were still several keepers of the flame who kept the pure, old Latin language going. Chief among them was the Church. Other keepers of the Latin flame include monasteries, the principal hubs of scholarship before the first universities of the twelfth and thirteenth century. Those universities, too, maintained a reverence for old, pure Latin that continued across Europe and in America for another millennium.
It is no coincidence that the last little outposts of pure Latin teaching in this country today are grammar schools and public schools: ancient foundations, often of religious and royal origins, that date to a time when Latin was the lingua franca of education.
Today, even as Latin has disappeared from many services, you will see echoes of it throughout the Christian church. And fragments of Christian Latin still filter down the ages. The song ‘Ave Maria’ comes from the Latin form of the Hail Mary.
The Eucharistic liturgy in Latin, used by the Catholic church until 1964, is still familiar to many. These sections are particularly memorable:
Dominus vobiscum Et cum spiritu tuo.
‘The Lord be with you And with thy spirit.’
In Nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti.
‘In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.’
Gloria Patri et Filio et Spiritui Sancto, Sicut erat in principio et nunc et semper et in saecula saeculorum.
‘Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost. As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end.’
The Nicene Creed, the defining statement of belief for many Christians, originally in Greek, was decided at the First Council of Nicaea in 325 AD. The Latin translation is more familiar to many Christians.
Credo in unum Deum, Patrem omnipotentem, factorem coeli et terrae, visibilium omnium et invisibilium.
‘I believe in one God, the Father almighty, maker of heaven and earth, and of all things visible and invisible.’
The Lord’s Prayer, originally recorded in Greek in different versions in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke, also has a familiar Latin version.
Latin remains the official language for documents in the Vatican. The Second Vatican Council (1962–5) allowed languages other than Latin to be used in Mass, but the Tridentine Mass in Latin remains popular, particularly under Pope Benedict XVI, who gave his resignation speech in Latin in 2013.
In 2007, Pope Benedict also made it easier for Catholics to attend the Tridentine Mass, celebrated almost entirely in Latin, and set out by Pope Pius V in 1570. With this masterstroke, the Pope single-handedly ended a battle fought by modernists for 40 years to end the Latin Mass.
Although Pope Benedict has quite rightly been celebrated as the driving force behind the Latin revival, his predecessor did his bit, too. In the early 1980s, Pope John Paul II was the first to remove major restrictions on the Latin Mass. In 2001, he accelerated the Vatican’s return to Latin when he signed the directive, Liturgiam Authenticam (‘Authentic Liturgy’), backing translations of the liturgy that are closer to Latin.
Confusingly, the Latin Church used a Greek liturgy for several hundred years before adopting Latin, but it was the Latin version that stuck until Vatican II. Still, under Pope John Paul II, it was up to individual bishops whether they allowed the Latin Mass in their diocese. Pope Benedict XVI removed that prerogative from the bishops.
As a result of his apostolic letter in 2007, Summorum Pontificum (‘Of the Leading Popes’), issued motu proprio (‘by his own motion’), individual priests could choose to say the Latin Mass. And, what’s more, individual congregations could demand that their priest says the Mass.
In 2021, Pope Francis imposed restrictions on the Tridentine Mass in his motu proprio Traditionis Custodes (‘Guards of Tradition’). But, still, Latin lingers on in the Church, not least in the Requiem Mass for the dead. It gets its name from the introit of the liturgy. Requiem is the accusative of requies (rest), derived from re (again) and quies (rest – as in ‘quiet ’).
Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine: et lux perpetua luceat eis. Te decet hymnus, Deus in Sion: et tibi reddetur votum in Jerusalem: exaudi orationem meam, ad te omnis caro veniet.
‘Rest eternal grant to them, O Lord: and let light perpetual shine upon them. Praise befits you in Zion, O God: and to you is offered prayer in Jerusalem. Hear my prayer, for to you shall all flesh come.’
Still today, it is Latin that best captures the majesty and seriousness of the most important moment in our life – our death.
Et Tu, Brute? The Best Latin Lines Ever (Bloomsbury, £14.99) by Harry Mount and John Davie is out now
